The Unicorn
by Scribbles-by-Kate
Summary: Rumplestiltskin requires his maid's assistance with procuring an ingredient for his work and Belle finds more evidence that supports her belief that her prickly employer is not the black-hearted monster he claims himself to be. Dark Castle RumBelle.


I realise I've never written any Dark Castle RumBelle before, so here's something to rectify that, and as a gift for the start of the new season :) Hope you enjoy.

As ever, _Once Upon a Time_ is the property of Adam Horowitz, Eddy Kitsis, and ABC. I'm just filling in some of the blanks.

 **The Unicorn**

Belle had her arms elbow-deep in the wash tub when Rumplestiltskin's voice sounded behind her, making her jump and slosh water over herself.

'Come along, dearie,' he trilled, 'we don't have all day.'

She turned, sending him a scowl. 'You scared me half to death!' she accused. ' _Must_ you sneak up on me?'

He looked at her for a moment and she just knew that he was going to respond with some smart remark. Sure enough —

'Yes!' he cried, giggling maniacally.

Belle simply shook her head, more amused than annoyed at his antics by now. She'd been here about six months and she'd become accustomed to his oddities, finding them more and more endearing as time passed.

'I'm going as fast as I can, you know,' she told him, gesturing to the washing.

'Oh, leave that,' he said airily: 'I have a more important job for you.'

This came as a great surprise to Belle, who stepped towards him, eager and interested.

'What is it'? she asked.

Rumplestiltskin was left speechless for the moment by her bright eyes, shining with curiosity. She had no idea what he required of her: it could be horribly dangerous (not that he would ever risk putting her in danger, but… he _could_ , if he wanted to, which he didn't, and never would. What was he supposed to be doing again?)

Rumplestiltskin shook his head, attempting to clear it of troublesome thoughts. She wanted to know what he wanted her to do. Yes…

'I require your assistance with something, dearie.'

'Alright,' she said at once, removing her apron and drying her hands on it.

'I haven't told you what it is yet,' he told her, smirking. 'How do you know you want to help if you don't know what it is?'

Belle huffed out an exasperated breath and shook her head. Sometimes she just didn't know what to make of him. He either wanted her help or he didn't: she wished he'd make up his mind.

'Do you want my help or not?' she demanded, 'because I can always get back to washing and you can do whatever it is that needs doing by yourself.'

No sooner had she spoken the words than she wished she could take them back. She saw how his eyes narrowed and his mouth set. He was displeased, and he was very likely about to show that displeasure in a very unpleasant way. He was even raising his hand now.

She was rather surprised when he snapped his fingers and she didn't feel any different. Well, she was warmer, and she realised that that was because she was now wearing a beautiful crimson, fur-lined cloak with a hood, black leather gloves, and fur-lined walking boots. She was also wearing a new dress: pink, and made of a soft, warm, finely woven wool. The weather was cold so high in the mountains, especially at this time of year, and she would certainly be warm dressed like this.

'Oh,' she said, no more eloquent thought coming to her. She looked up after inspecting herself and met his eyes. 'Thank you.'

He nodded almost imperceptibly. 'It's cold,' he pointed out, 'and will be colder soon. I need you alive at least until you do what I need you to do.' He smirked a little, back to being maliciously gleeful.

He was so changeable, she thought: considerate one moment and then revelling in his dark mirth the next. It was hard to know how to read him sometimes, but he did things for her that were so sweet and kind: she felt he wasn't the malicious imp he tried to make her believe he was.

'So, where _are_ we going?' she asked.

'To a valley down the mountain,' he told her. 'I'll explain what I want from you on the way. Are you ready?'

'I am,' she said.

'Come along then, dearie: the quicker we complete our business, the quicker you can get back to the laundry. You do take an age with it, you know.'

She didn't give him the satisfaction of rising to the bait. She'd gotten faster and more efficient in her months here, and she'd never done any of this kind of work before. She knew he didn't really mean the slight anyway: he was remarkably patient with her, had been ever since she'd chipped one of his pretty teacups. It was strange that he insisted on taking his tea from that same cup now, actually. She remembered serving him tea in another cup one day, shortly after the accident with the other one, and he'd frowned at the cup and asked where _his_ cup was. He was rather possessive about that cup now: wouldn't let her serve him tea in anything else. Strange and sweet man.

She followed him now. For a man with no great height, he still had rather a long stride and she had to hurry to keep up.

'Keep up, dearie,' he called over his shoulder, giggling at her.

'I _am_ trying,' she returned, running to catch up.

He slowed his steps and she was able to keep up more easily.

'Thank you,' she murmured.

'Can't have you tired out, I suppose,' he allowed, 'otherwise the castle would never be clean. You do more reading than cleaning as it is anyway.'

He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye and she had to smile. He was right, but he was the one who had given her the library. Still, he didn't look annoyed now: he looked almost indulgent. Goodness, he was mercurial.

They exited the castle and Rumplestiltskin waved his hand to lock everything up. Belle marvelled at the way magic seemed to come so naturally to him. She'd wondered many times where his magic had come from. She'd often longed to ask, but knew he wouldn't like it. Some subjects she instinctively knew were off limits, and that was one of them. She'd let herself in for a world of trouble if she asked that particular question. She just had to hope that one day he would tell her things of his own accord.

Rumplestiltskin looked down at his maid as they walked. She was thinking again. She did that a lot, with such a sweet little frown on her face… Sweet? No: nothing sweet about her. She was the help, and he had _not_ noticed any such thing as the way she frowned when she was deep in thought. Ugh…

Searching for a distraction from his meddlesome thoughts, he realised he hadn't yet told her what he wanted of her. Ah, blessed relief!

'I require your assistance in procuring a few strands of hair from a baby unicorn's mane,' he told her.

'Oh?' she asked, looking up at him. Surely this was a thing he could easily do himself? 'And you need _me_ to do that for you?'

'Baby unicorns are…particular about who they'll allow to touch them,' he told her.

Belle knew this, of course. As well as being able to see aspects of the future, unicorns were very perceptive about people, and baby unicorns were particularly perceptive about, and shy of, people with evil in their hearts: they wouldn't allow people with dark hearts to touch them.

'You brought me along because you think the unicorns will let me touch them, but not you?'

'Precisely.'

'But your heart isn't evil, and mine isn't particularly good,' she protested.

'Oh, my heart is as black as they come,' he insisted, his voice dangerous.

'I refuse to believe that,' Belle returned stoutly.

'Be that as it may,' he replied, 'it's true.' Though part of him was always grateful when she said something like that, which she had more than once. That small part of him always seemed to grow and stretch towards the light that was her, and the darkness in him could not seem to stop it, and he was both grateful for and terrified of that fact.

Returning his thoughts to their business, he waved a hand and the castle gate swung open. They exited the castle grounds and Belle felt the shiver of magic that protected the place from intruders.

He called forth his magic and they disappeared and rematerialised near a river that ran down the side of the mountain. Belle looked up and just caught a glimpse of the Dark Castle high above them. Strange how the place had become her home in just a few short months. Well, she suspected it was the man at her side who made it home to her.

'Come along, dearie,' he called, striding off again, 'we go the rest of the way on foot.'

'Coming,' Belle called, hurrying after him.

They walked in silence for a bit. Rumplestiltskin was just waiting for his chatty little maid to break it, and, sure enough, she couldn't even go two minutes without speaking.

'Have you ever been close to a baby unicorn?' she asked.

'No,' he said.

Belle looked up at him. She suspected he wasn't telling her the truth, but asking outright if he was lying probably wasn't a good idea.

'I've never even seen a baby unicorn. I've seen them full grown, though,' she said conversationally. 'They are beautiful creatures. Am I allowed to ask what you need the hair for?' she asked.

He looked at her for a long moment and she knew the answer even before he gave it.

'No,' he said firmly.

'That's what I thought,' she said wryly. 'I should know better than to ask about your work.'

He leaned close as he walked. 'Yes,' he hissed, 'you should.' He was displeased with her, she knew.

'Sorry,' she offered, knowing she shouldn't have pried. Still, she couldn't help being interested in him.

'So you should be,' he returned tartly, and, straightening, he walked on.

Chastened, Belle followed, hoping his dark mood would lift quickly. He wasn't so pleasant to be around when he was moody. Usually she made herself scarce, but she couldn't do that right now, so she figured she'd best stay quiet and hopefully his mood would change sooner rather than later.

A few minutes later, they reached a path leading into a valley.

'You must go on alone,' he said. 'You'll find a herd of unicorns inside. Take a few strands of hair from one of the foals and put them in this; then bring it back to me.' He handed her a small pouch.

'Alright,' she said. 'I won't be long. You'll be here?'

'I'm not going anywhere. Should you need me, call my name and I will come.'

She nodded, feeling better.

'I'll be as quick as I can,' she promised, and headed down the track through the valley.

Rumplestiltskin watched her go, her steps sure on the path. The further she walked away from him, the harder his withered old heart beat. Ridiculous, he growled to himself: mooning over a little slip of a girl. Still, he kept his eyes on her until she had disappeared around a bend in the path and he could see her no longer. Then he waited, pacing.

Belle hurried on, wanting to complete her task and return to Rumplestiltskin so he wouldn't worry. As if he would worry. Why would he worry about her? Sometimes she thought he did… Sometimes she thought he… She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Why would he care for her?

Still, she was fond of him, and she liked being close to him, and the fact that he'd entrusted her with this task made her feel happy, so she would do it well, and maybe then he would ask for her help again, and tell her more about himself and his work.

The herd of unicorns was grazing on the sweet grass and Belle stopped in her tracks at the sight. How beautiful they were, their coats shining in the light, their horns glistening. She felt privileged to see them, and could only hope they wouldn't scatter in fright at her approach.

She walked carefully, stepping over twigs and anything that might spook the animals, and she was pleased to see they didn't run off. A few of them looked up at her approach, but they only gave her a curious glance and then returned to their meal.

She saw a few foals with their mothers and she approached one slowly. It raised its head, looking at her with soulful eyes, but it didn't shy away, which was good.

The foal was probably about two months old, just starting to develop its horn. There was a little blunt nub of bone where the horn was growing, and Belle thought the foal was one of the sweetest things she'd ever seen.

It seemed to like her too, since it came to her on legs that were losing their spindly look. Its mother whinnied softly, but Belle thought it more a soothing sound than a warning, so the mother seemed happy enough to have her close too.

'Hello, little one,' Belle cooed. 'How beautiful you are.' She held out her hand and the foal pushed its nose up. 'Oh, I'm afraid I have no treat for you,' she said apologetically, 'but I can pet you, if you like?'

The foal rubbed its nose along her hand, as if asking what she was waiting for, and Belle happily petted it for a moment, one hand on its nose and the other in its mane. She found that some strands of hair came out as she ran her fingers through the soft mane, and she gathered them quickly, putting them in the pouch Rumplestiltskin had given her. She gathered quite a few strands, wanting to be sure he would have enough.

'I must go now,' she said to the foal, 'but thank you for letting me pet you, and for the strands of your hair. I don't know what they're for, but I think he'll be grateful to get them.'

She stepped back, intending to return to Rumplestiltskin, and the foal turned back to its mother, but suddenly a hand grabbed her around the waist, and another hand was clamped over her mouth.

Her eyes went wide as she struggled against her captor, but she stilled when something sharp was pressed to her throat.

'That's better,' a voice growled in her ear. 'Now, missy, you seem to have a way with the beasts, so you're going to coax the little ones away from their mothers for me. Cause me any trouble and I'll slit your throat: understand me?'

She nodded, the point of what she was pretty sure was a knife at her throat piercing her skin, making her whimper.

He released her and she turned to see a tall man in furs standing before her. He was obviously a poacher, seeking to trap baby unicorns for their magical properties. She knew unicorn horns were highly sought after in some realms and foals were likely more easily managed than adult unicorns, once they'd been lured away from their herds, that was. Once they'd been captured, the poachers would wait until the horn had developed, then kill them and sell the horns, and probably other body parts too: those poor creatures!

She would not let him take the foals from their mothers. Unfortunately for him, he didn't seem to realise that she was not as alone as she seemed to be: Rumplestiltskin had said to call if she needed him: well, this certainly counted.

She stepped back and heard the unicorns neighing to each other restlessly now. They knew something was wrong, and her little friend was staying close by its mother now. That was good: the mother would protect her baby.

She tried to send out soothing vibes to the herd, but she could see them closing ranks, the stronger males circling the females and foals. One of them reared up on his hind legs, warning the poacher away.

As the poacher was watching the male unicorn, Belle took her chance.

'Rumplestiltskin!' she called, her voice shaking. _Please let him come_ , she thought.

Nothing happened, and the poacher glared at her, furious.

'I warned you,' he snarled, stomping towards her, face like thunder, but suddenly he stopped in his tracks, frozen. 'Wha-?' The look on his face at not being able to move was nearly comical.

'You called, dearie?'

Belle's heart flooded with relief. 'Rumple!' she cried.

Rumplestiltskin saw his maid's face white with fear and turned his attention to the big burly man he was keeping frozen with his magic.

'Not very nice to pick on innocent maidens,' he said in a sing-song voice, 'especially when you're so much bigger than they are. I don't much like bullies at the best of times, dearie, but when they bother my maid, I really have no time for them.'

'What'd you do to me, snake?' the poacher demanded, glaring at Rumplestiltskin. Clearly he didn't know who he was dealing with.

'Don't you mean 'What did you do to me, Dark One"?' Rumplestiltskin smiled as the man gasped in fear. 'So, you _do_ know who I am: excellent. I love it when my reputation precedes me. Now, dearie, just so you know, these lands, these unicorns, and this lady are all under my protection, and poaching and bothering her incur a heavy penalty.' He smiled maliciously, walking in a circle around the man, who tried to keep his eyes on him, but couldn't because he was frozen.

'Now for the fun part,' Rumplestiltskin declared gleefully: 'I get to decide what that penalty shall be.'

'Please,' the man begged, 'please have mercy, Dark One.'

'Have mercy?' Rumplestiltskin scoffed, 'like you were going to show her mercy? I think not, dearie.' And he raised his hand.

'Rumplestiltskin,' Belle called.

He paused, hand raised, and looked at her.

'Don't hurt him?' she requested.

He frowned. 'He was going to hurt you, Belle.'

'I know,' she agreed, 'but my mother always taught me to turn the other cheek. Please, Rumple, don't hurt him in my name: I don't want that.'

He'd never understand this girl, he decided. If this scum had frightened anyone else, they'd want him to suffer for it, but not Belle.

'Very well,' he said, as if it pained him that he wouldn't get to come up with an interesting torture for the man. He waved his hand and the poacher disappeared.

'Where did you send him?' Belle asked.

'Oh, there's a nasty swamp not far from here that he'll have to figure his way out of. Couldn't let him off entirely, dearie: would ruin my reputation if anyone ever found out.'

She smiled weakly. 'Well, thank you for not hurting him,' she said. 'I know he's not a good man, but maybe he can change.'

'You are entirely too optimistic,' he told her, though part of him loved that about her. Loved? He tried to dismiss that thought quickly, but it was stubborn. The same thought had been lingering in his mind for some time now.

'I don't think so,' she returned, smiling a little. Then she seemed to remember what had almost happened to her and she started to sway from the shock of it.

Rumplestiltskin darted forward, catching her before she could fall. He looked down at her, finding her face deathly pale and her eyelids heavy.

'I'm alright,' she claimed weakly.

'No, you're not,' he growled.

'Really, I—' But the feel of something nuzzling her hand drew her attention, and she saw her little unicorn friend standing there, looking plaintively at her.

'I'll be alright, little one,' she promised, and the foal whinnied softly in response.

It looked at Rumplestiltskin then, and the sorcerer was amazed that the little thing didn't seem afraid of him.

The foal stretched its head and sniffed the Dark One's hand, its breath warm and ticklish; then it touched its nose to his hand and Rumplestiltskin gasped, almost pulling his hand away. The little thing should bolt from him. He was the Dark One: his heart was black. There was no reason for this little foal to touch him like that, except…

Rumplestiltskin looked down at Belle, who was still cradled awkwardly in his arms. Of course, the foal was worried about her and wanted her protected. She was goodness personified: her heart would be pure enough to bathe him in some of her light, he was sure, and that was probably why the foal didn't run from him. That Belle's light could be powerful enough to outshine his darkness…

Belle had seen the little foal's gesture and smiled at it. Rumplestiltskin liked to pretend his heart was black as coal, but she knew better, and this was proof. Unicorns were never wrong about people, ever, and neither she nor this little foal was wrong about Rumplestiltskin: there was good in him.

Rumplestiltskin picked Belle up and was instantly reminded of the day she'd fallen into his arms from pulling down those blasted curtains. She was light in his arms, and his heart filled with a surge of protectiveness.

He looked at the baby unicorn, which was looking expectantly at him, seemingly waiting for something.

'I'll protect her,' he promised, and the little unicorn nodded its head and whinnied softly, seemingly satisfied. It trotted over to its mother again, and she, and the rest of the unicorns, returned to their grazing.

Rumplestiltskin called forth his magic and took himself and Belle back to the Dark Castle. He brought her to her library and laid her down on the chaise she always sat on when reading.

Belle opened her eyes and smiled at him. She saw the fright in his eyes for her and caught his hand.

'Thank you,' she murmured, 'for saving my life.'

'No matter,' he said, looking away, uncomfortable at knowing she'd seen his worry.

'Just rest,' he entreated. 'I want the flagstones scrubbed in the entrance hall tomorrow and you'll need your strength to carry the water.'

Belle nodded and smiled at his gruffness. He was always like that when they had a moment of closeness, always talked about some tedious task he wanted her to complete. He always ended up making it easier for her to do: she knew, for example, that buckets of water would conveniently appear whenever she needed them tomorrow.

Rumplestiltskin magicked her cloak away, replacing it with a warm blanket, but when she turned her head, she heard him hiss and her eyes widened.

'What did he do to you?' he demanded, growling it.

She realised he was looking at her neck, where the poacher's blade had cut her, and she brought her hand up to cover it.

'I knew I shouldn't have let him go,' he hissed: 'let me see.'

'I'll be alright,' she soothed, but she took her hand away and showed him the small cut.

Rumplestiltskin wanted to go and slice the man into little pieces for what he'd done, but he wanted to heal Belle more.

'Let me take care of that,' he murmured, his voice gentle. He raised his hand to heal it, but realised he needed to wait for her say so.

'Thank you,' she said, nodding, touched that he wanted to use his magic to help her.

'No charge,' he said, waiving the price as he moved his hand over the cut, healing it.

'You're very kind,' she said.

'Hardly,' he huffed: 'I simply need you in one piece so you can keep the castle clean.'

She smiled, and it widened when he didn't immediately move to leave her. He was sitting beside her on the edge of the chaise, and she thought to distract him before he realised it, because she knew he'd jump up and move away as soon as he did, and she liked having him close.

'The little foal let you touch it,' she said.

He shook his head. 'It touched me.'

'Even so,' she said, 'it still means your heart isn't as dark as you keep insisting.'

'It didn't touch me because of any light in _my_ heart,' he told her.

'Then whose?' she asked, ready to argue with him.

'Yours, of course,' he returned. 'I was holding you when it touched me: it only touched me because I was holding you.'

'I don't think that's true,' she told him, 'and I think you lied to me when you said you'd never been close to a baby unicorn.'

She knew it was dangerous to provoke him, but when he looked down at his hands, she knew he wouldn't yell at her for her inquisitiveness.

'I touched one, once, a very long time ago,' he said, remembering a time when his heart was innocent and pure, and a baby unicorn had come to him while he was wandering in the forest one day. Sometimes, even now, the awe he'd felt that day washed over him again. It happened a lot when he was around a certain lively, blue-eyed maid, actually.

'That's wonderful,' she said, smiling.

He couldn't let her go thinking that this meant he wasn't the monster he claimed he was, because he was every inch a monster, and she deserved better, no matter how much he wanted her for himself. Ugh, why did he keep thinking like that?

'Did you get me my unicorn hair, dearie?' he demanded, standing up now.

'I did,' she said, and she reached into a pocket of her dress and removed the pouch. 'I got several strands: I hope it's enough.'

He snatched the pouch from her and looked into it.

'Should be enough,' he said noncommittally, and then he disappeared in a cloud of crimson smoke, leaving Belle alone.

She sighed, sorry she'd displeased him once again. If only she could tamp down her curiosity when it came to him, but she couldn't: she liked and wanted to know him too much.

When she was over the shock of her ordeal, she returned to the laundry, but she found it all washed, dried, and neatly folded. She also found two new books sitting atop the pile.

She smiled, recognising an attempt at reconciliation when she saw one, and she took both books up to the great hall, where she found Rumplestiltskin at his spinning wheel.

'Laundry done already?' he asked, feigning surprise.

She smiled. 'Yes, and I found some new books.'

'Really? Well, since you're here, and the chores are done, you might as well read to me.'

'Gladly,' she said, making herself comfortable on the sofa near his spinning wheel. He'd never asked her to read to him before, but she would if it meant she could be close to him.

Rumplestiltskin listened avidly to his little housekeeper's lilting voice as she read to him. He'd often wondered what this would be like, and it surpassed his imaginings. He even stopped his spinning so he could listen better.

It struck him that Belle was like the unicorn foal today, not afraid to be close to him, despite the darkness in him. He would be eternally grateful to her for that.

 **The End**

 **There you go, some Dark Castle fluff :) Hope I managed to get this version of Rumple right: he's a bit harder to write than the Storybrooke version, I find. By the way, Belle's outfit is the same as** _ **Beauty and the Beast**_ **'s Belle wears during the "Something There" song :) Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading :)**


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